


Entwined

by joeypoonie



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: BoyxBoy, Cerenia, Death, Earth, Entwined, Fantasy, Goddesses, Gods, M/M, Romance, Violence, War, Yaoi, Zanela, family bonds, historical fiction - Freeform, joeypoonie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeypoonie/pseuds/joeypoonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hearts, made in different worlds, brought up in different cultures, having been taught to kill each other on sight, now brought together to uphold a peace treaty. Would hate grow to love? Will the past be forgotten, or will chaos reign through the hearts. In their hands, the fragile key for a better world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every Story Has A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first time posting here! 
> 
> I've been writing this story since 2009 if i am not wrong. Hehes But i haven't really gotten anywhere with it. I actually stopped writing for about two years and finally got back the drive to continue this. :) Hopefully y'all will enjoy this as much as i did whilst writing! Drop me a comment and/or a kudos! Hahas 
> 
> Criticisms are still a form of feedback! 
> 
> Read on and enjoy! :D

Chapter 1: Every Story has a Beginning

*~*

The night was young and the moon was full. It hung like a yellow orb high up in the dark sky; thousands of stars dotted the dark canvas. The figure took a step forward, causing the fallen autumn leaves to shatter under his foot. He ran a hand through his silk-like hair as his azure-blue orbs followed the path before him.

There before him, stood a lone grave. Surrounding it were carefully bred white roses, encasing the grave in an aura-like way. A smile grew on his lips as he kneeled down; muttering a soft greeting.

000oo00oo000

His fingers ran across the surface of the grave, caressing the little bumps gently as though they were jewels. His dark eyes trailed the words as memories played once again in his mind. He remembered the soft touch on his skin, the warm breath on his neck, the warm lips on his lips, the gentle voice saying his name.

Pain filled his heart as he silenced the yell threatening to come out. He did not understand why he had to lose his love. He glared at the full moon; it seemed to be taunting him, mocking the fragility of humans.

000oo00oo000

The sound of birds chirping awaked him along with the voice, asking him to rise.

"Your highness, His Majesty wishes to see you. Your highness, please, awaken," the voice became clear – a female. "His Majesty wishes to see you in the dining hall."

He blinked a couple of times trying to focus on his surroundings. He realized he had fallen asleep in front of the grave the previous night, as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. The maid repeated the request hoping that the prince would quickly get up and go see the King. They all knew what the King's temper was like and did not want him to get angry.

The prince stood up, bowing to the grave before he turned and hurried to go meet his father…

"Were you at the grave again?" the King, King Benedik asked as he finished his drink.

The prince bowed his head and took in a deep breath. He could smell the scent of roses on his clothes, he had no excuse now; he was in trouble.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself? Time and time again, I warned you about visiting your mother's grave and you keep defying me!" the King roared slamming his goblet onto the floor.

"Father, Christophor misses her. Just let him be." Anastasia, the prince's oldest sister said.

"When your mother was alive, she spoiled him, treated him like a jewel. You three, as his older sisters are spoiling him the same way your mother did, now look at him, he is almost female!" the King retorted angrily.

"He is our darling baby brother." Emily said, grinning at Christophor.

"Like you said, brother. So shouldn't he act more like a man instead of a woman? Instead of playing dress-up with you three, he should learn how to fight," the king uttered, staring at Christophor. "This is linked to the issue which I am about to address."

With this, Christophor sat up straight, placed his utensils down and looked at his father. His azure-blue eyes stared into emerald-green orbs; they seemed so cold, so distant that Christophor looked away. He had inherited most of his mother's looks; her blue eyes and light-purple hair.

"We all know that the peace treaty between our country Zanela and Cerenia is not very strong. The peace that we currently have would not last unless we do something. Therefore, the King of Cerenia and I have come the decision that you, Prince Christophor Benedik of Zanela is to wed King Anderson's second son, Prince Anderes Cersario." The King announced.

Metal hit porcelain, gasps sounded. Christophor tried to process the information; he could not believe it while Cassandra stood up – speechless.

"Father, you-you betrothed Christophor to a man?" Cassandra asked, her voice shaking.

"Prince Anderes prefers males, and Christophor is as feminine as any lady can get. To ensure the peace between our two countries, this is how it has to be. Christophor, you'll be leaving for Cerenia in two-days' time. I will assign a special guard for you; your wedding would be decided by the other party. You will not be allowed to return here after that unless the King of Cerenia grants you permission. Understand?" the King said wiping his mouth gently with the corner of a gold-rimmed silk napkin.

"Father! You cannot do this!" Anastasia said standing up.

"Not Christophor! He's only nineteen! He should not be sent to the gallows for this! Please father-" Emily said before the King interrupted

"For our country, this is a must. If Christophor was more like a man, I would never do this. Blame it on the fact that he has never tried to stand up for himself." The King roared.

"Father, please I beg you to reconsider thi-"

"This breakfast is over! Christophor, you are going to Cerenia whether you like it or not!" the King bellowed as he stood up and marched out of the room.

Christophor felt his eyes sting as hot tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He did not want to leave Zanela; he did not want to marry some gay who was in fact the enemy. His vision blurred as he felt a drop on his hand, his sisters crowded around him, tears in their eyes, trying their best to comfort their little brother.

"Christophor, don't cry. I'll go talk to father again, don't cry dear…" Anastasia muttered hugging her brother.

"Father cannot do this, he cannot! How can he just hand you over to the enemy? How-" Emily sobbed.

Cassandra placed her arm around Christophor, tears trailing down her cheeks. Christophor felt his world crumble, his clothes crunched up in his fists, hell was breaking loose.

000oo00oo000

"Anderes…" he moaned as their lips met and is tongue entered the familiar place.

"Anderes. Hey Anderes!" a voice called.

He opened his eye and looked at the person who called him. His jet-black orbs met fiery red ones. Even though they were related to each other by blood, Anderes could see how different he looked compared to his older brother, the Crown Prince of Cerenia, Prince Nathan. Anderes was a year and a half younger than Nathan; he had shoulder-length black hair in contrast to his brother's deep red hair.

A grin grew on Nathan's face as he settled down beside Anderes on the steps leading to the courtyard.

"It is true then?" Nathan asked.

"What's true? That you have an idiotic grin?" Anderes asked, breaking into a similar smile.

"So do you," Nathan laughed. "I've heard that, father has betrothed you to some prince from Zanela, this was utterly surprising. Never thought father would allow an agreement of such severity to be passed without the approval of the entire council."

Anderes kept quiet. Anger flashed in his eyes as he recalled his father deciding on the decision without his permission. A slap on the back indicated to Anderes that another sibling had joined them on the steps.

"What are you two talking about out here?" she asked.

"Don't worry Anderes, I'll make it hell for that poor soul who would be coming." Nathan proposed, cracking his knuckles in excitement.

Elsie delivered a hard blow onto the side of Nathan's head before settling down on the other side of Anderes. Anderes knew that among the five children, Elsie was the voice of reason even though she was the second youngest child.

"He must be having a worse time. He has to move away from his country, his people, his family, and join us here. People whom he was taught were enemies till recent years and, he is only nineteen, a mere two years older than me. Imagine how he must be feeling." Her red irises shining brightly as she looked out towards the horizon.

The rising sun splashed the sky with bright orange and red, causing the puffy white clouds to look slightly roasted. Anderes sighed and looked at the clouds, it reminded him of past memories, those that would never happen again.

"Are you thinking about Savan?" Nathan asked cautiously.

Anderes smiled, he could remember all the memories he had with Savan. His gentle touch, his loving voice calling his name, his warm kisses, nothing would be able to make him forget Savan.

"Would you shut up some time?" Elsie yelled as she delivered another blow onto Nathan's head.

Anderes laughed. Being the only girl in between four brothers did not help Elsie to become a proper princess. He pitied Nathan as Elsie's blows were unusually painful, but he knew she only used force because she wanted to help.

When Savan died, he did not shed a single tear during the burial, everyone thought he was alright, that he accepted the fact that Savan was gone. Elsie, she was the only one who came to him after the burial, she was the only one who realized the real pain he was suffering, that the tears were indeed falling – inside

"It's alright Elsie. I'm happy to say that I am thinking about Savan. I loved him and I still do. Even though he is gone, I'm very sure that he is still in here." Anderes said pointing to his heart.

An image of Savan came into his mind. His blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, his purple eyes radiating gentleness, his smile grinning brightly.

"Be happy Anderes!" he waved and disappeared.

Anderes stood up and stretched. The sun had risen and it was time to go get ready for the day ahead. He had to finalize he plans for Christophor's arrival, and to decide on what he could do to make the younger boy wish he was never born…

000oo00oo000


	2. Swift Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two hearts, made in different worlds, brought up in different cultures, having been taught to kill each other on sight, now brought together to uphold a peace treaty. Would hate grow to love? Will the past be forgotten, or will chaos reign through the hearts. In their hands, the fragile key for a better world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have not updated this in a while :/ 
> 
> Hope I still have some readers around! This is unbeta-ed, therefore I cannot promise you that it'll be free of mistakes. However, criticisms are definitely welcomed! 
> 
> Hope y'all will enjoy this chapter as well! 
> 
> Leave a comment and/or kudos if you wanna! :D And if you want me to be really happy! :) 
> 
> Hahas, read on and enjoy!

Sighing deeply, Christophor looked outside the carriage windows. The guards were finalizing the route to Cerenia whilst the servants placed the boxes full of the prince’s items into the carriages. His eyes sought to find a comforting face – there were none - only to see those of his personal guards.

“Rivan,” he called out after he opened the carriage window.

 The armored guard broke away from the group he was in and made his way to the prince.

 “Are my sisters coming to send me off?” Christophor asked, trying to mask the sadness in his voice.

 “I’ll go inquire again. Do not worry my prince, I am sure they will.” Rivan replied, bowing to take his leave.

 The sun had yet to rise, the sky was still dark and yet the castle staff was already awake. Christophor had to leave today for Cerenia, it was a three-week journey, a fortnight journey through the country side mountain pass and across the borders followed by another five-days of travel through into the Woods Of Sherain – named after the Goddess who supposedly guarded the forest - therefore, the King had instructed them to leave as early as possible.

Looking down at the white rose in his hand, he felt his heart ache. He would not be able to visit her again. Biting his lower lip, he closed his eyes as he felt the hot liquid gather at the corners of his eyes. He was going to miss this place; all the childhood memories, the days he spent with his mother practicing his violin.

“My violin!” he remembered.

Pushing open the carriage door, Christophor leapt out of the carriage and ran towards the palace. Forgotten, the white rose fell to the ground, stepped on by the servants hurrying to finish loading the baggage. A while later, the prince returned, holding onto a black case; a small sad smile on his face.

However, with the return of the guard, Christophor’s smile faded away as the command for the carriages to leave the castle ground and begin the journey sounded. As the heavy carriages passed, the white rose laid crumpled in the mud. 

*~*

Lightening flashed in the distance, followed by a roar of thunder; the dark rain clouds loomed like a dark cloak shielding the sun. The horses neighed nervously as they continued on their way to Cerenia; the carriages rocking vigorously as they traveled over the uneven country road.

Christophor sighed deeply as he turned away from the window and allowed the white-silk curtains fall back into place. They had been on the road for close to a fortnight, and he was tired of staying in the carriage; he wanted to enjoy his surroundings before he reached the palace, his prison. Closing his eyes, Christophor recalled the times he used to have playing the violin for his sisters and his mother. Biting his lip, Christophor felt his eyes sting beneath his eyelids. Slowly, Christophor drifted off to slumber, allowing his siblings to invade his dreams…

“Your highness. Prince Christophor, its dinner time.” came a familiar voice.

Unfocused, Christophor stirred from his sleep and looked at blurred figure of Rivan who was standing by the door beckoning him to leave the carriage. The scenery had changed, instead of the endless sea of lush green fields, large trees towered over them all. Little sunlight broke through the canopies, the voices of nature were far and few – _Have we crossed the borders?_ Christophor asked himself.

Exiting the carriage, Christophor realized that the soldiers had already set up camp - fires had been started and the aroma of cooked lamb drifted towards him. His stomach growled deeply reminding him that he was hungry and that the lamb was waiting for him to consume.

“How long more to Cerenia?” Christophor asked as he approached his dining tent.   

“If we travel without stopping at all, we would arrive at Cerenia by noon on the fourth day. Otherwise, if we do stop to rest, we would arrive at Cerenia by sunset at most. “ Rivan replied as he pushed the flap to the tent away to allow Christophor to enter.

Settling down, Christophor sighed deeply. He could not escape what was installed for him. He looked at Rivan pitifully; hoping that he would be able to help him in any way. Yet, Rivan could only just smiled apologetically back at Christophor.

“Sit down and dine with me Rivan,” Christophor said, indicating the empty seat beside him. “Shall I be nice and arrive at noon?”

“Christophor, it is not whether you want to or not you know you need to arrive there as early as possible, least the King gets unhappy.” Rivan replied, formalities missing from his voice as he gazed from the piece of lamb just served by one of the servants to his childhood best friend.

“I know… But, Rivan, the person I am betrothed to is a male!” Christophor cried out.

“I do not know how I am supposed to react. I can grow to love a woman, but how am I supposed to love a fellow male, especially one that is descended from the murderers of our people?”

“Christophor, even if you tell me this, what can I do? I am but only a soldier, I do not have the right to even have a say in a matter like this. All I can tell you is that, no matter what happens, I will always be here to advise you, stand by you and protect you okay?” Rivan replied, smiling gently at the tearing boy.

“You better!” Christophor muttered as tears escaped from his azure-blue irises. 

*~*

“What are we doing here again may I ask?” Nathan asked, irritation etched upon his handsome features.

“Why must I be here? I’m also not the one getting married!” Damien – fifth and youngest child of the Cersario family – whined.

Beads of sweat rolled down the side of his face as a vein twitched in his jaw. Why did he have to come and welcome the damn enemy, and in this kind of weather. Not to forget, his head was throbbing painfully and the velvet covering him was killing him.

“Can you two be quiet? It is warm enough out here; your voices are making the situation even worse if you did not notice!” Davien – third son of the Cersario family – snapped.

“Damn it. If that bastard doesn’t get here right now, I’m going to kill him when I see him!” Anderes screamed within.

In the distance, a dark spot appeared as it made its way towards the royal siblings. The carriages and the royal guard were traveling at a very fast pace. In a matter of minutes, the entire convoy was just a few feet away from the royal siblings.

“Why isn’t it slowing down?” Elsie asked anxiously.

Just as she finished her question, the carriages and its guard raced past the royal siblings and sped towards the kingdom of Cerenia. Only one horseman slowed to a stop before them. Removing his helmet, dark black hair fell onto his shoulders; his acid-green eyes burned with anxiety as he bowed with respect to the royal siblings.

“I am Rivan Henson, head of Prince Christophor’s personal guard. My apologies for the sudden change of plan. Because of the sudden drastic change of climate, Prince Christophor has fallen ill. I have just instructed my men to send his highness to see a physician. I will see to it that Prince Christophor will enter the palace by nightfall.” Without waiting for a reply, Rivan gave a bow, turned and replaced his helmet, remounted his horse and hurried off to catch up with the rest of the convoy.

“What the hell?’ Nathan muttered.

 *~*

Chuckling to himself, Christophor lifted the white silk curtains slightly; they were leaving the ‘welcoming’ party behind. He watched as Rivan rode up by the carriage smirking at him as they shared a silent victory cheer as the convoy moved on.

“We did it!” Christophor laughed as he opened the window slightly.

“Yes, your highness, we did-“ Rivan replied before he was interrupted.

“Stop the carriage!” Anderes commanded as he pushed his horse forward.

Hearing this, the blood drained from Christophor’s face as he slammed the window shut. The last thing he saw was the frightened look in Rivan’s eyes. Falling back onto the seats, Christophor felt his mouth go dry as the carriage slowed to a stop. Beads of cold sweat rolled down the side of his face as he tried his best to calm his heart; it felt as though it was rising up through his throat and it made him breathless.

“May I ask what the problem may be, your highness?” Rivan asked as he reeled his horse to face the foreign prince.

“Open the door. Ask your prince to come out and let me see him.” Anderes spat bitterly.

Hearing this, Christophor felt the tips of his fingers go numb. The temperature around him seemed to have dropped suddenly as his skin prickled with anxiety. He felt light-headed; small black dots were beginning to materialize out of nowhere; and they seemed to be dancing in front of his eyes.

“Prince Christophor is not feeling well, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to see him.” Rivan replied.

It started with just one, but in a split second, the sound of swords leaving their sheaths broke the silence. Outside, Rivan glanced at the tip of the sword at the base of his neck to the person holding it. His green eyes were burning with ferocity. Around him, his fellow guards had drawn their swords as well, ready to fight the prince if he struck, similarly, the prince’s own guards and presumably his siblings had drawn their own swords, ready to attack.

“Open it.” Anderes ordered.

“Over my dead body, _your highness_.” Rivan snarled, spitting the honorific term out with obvious disgust.

“I shall grant it then..!” Anderes muttered as he pushed the tip of his sword closer causing a slight red line to appear.

Rivan glared at Anderes with hate-filled eyes when the opening of the carriage door attracted their attentions. Eyes followed the pale-looking teen that climbed slowly out of the carriage. Christophor was covered in cold sweat, strands of his light purple hair plastered against his cheek. His throat was mighty dry, his lips pale. His brows furrowed as he tried his best to cling on to the carriage door for support.

Glaring weakly at Anderes then the others, he said “And you must be the one who asked for my presence, the one who threatened my personal guard with death?! For what reason may I inquire? For not allowing you to see me?” tucking his fringe behind his ear. His voice was tired but authoritative; he showed no sign of being frightened, even in the midst of an entire group of armed assailants-to-be.

“Your highness!” Rivan yelled before Anderes stopped him by pushing his sword forward enlarging the red line where small beads of crimson had started to form.

Anderes eyed Christophor suspiciously before Rivan pushed him aside to reach his best friend who had just collapsed into a coughing fit.

“Rivan, I think I am really sick…” Christophor muttered weakly.

“It’s fine Chris, do not worry, I’ll get you to a physician right away,” Rivan uttered as he placed an arm across Christophor’s waist and carried his prince and best friend to lay him back down within the carriage. “If you are done causing enough harm, his highness needs to be looked at now. We shall be going now.” Rivan said matter-of-factly as he closed the carriage door, ignoring the other party completely before climbing back onto his horse. 


	3. Bloody Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Been too long! Hahas, i am so sorry, but writer's block been hindering my progress for like arghhhhhh. Plus i've started working, so i doubt i will be able to update frequently. However, i hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for the next! :)

Chapter 3: Bloody Memories

 “Was Prince Christophor a frail child in the past?” the physician questioned as he packed his equipment back into his bag.

“Yes. His Highness had to spend days in bed with the physician constantly at his side a number of times when he was a child.  While the other boys were other training or playing, Prince Christophor had to remain indoors to nurse his health.” Rivan explained.

“I see. Prince Christophor’s body is not very strong. I think because of the stress and fatigue caused while making this journey has caused him to catch a slight cold. Just give him the medicine I have prescribed twice everyday; once in the morning and another in the evening. I shall come back in seven days to check on him again.” The physician said as he bowed low to Anderes and Nathan before following Rivan out.

 “So he really was sick.” Nathan muttered as he glanced at the unconscious boy lying under the covers.

Anderes did not answer but he looked at Christophor. He was still breaking out in cold sweat; his forehead was creased and his eyes were moving frantically under the lids. He seemed to be having a nightmare. From behind, a maid with a bowl of water entered with a small cloth. Anderes watched as she dipped the cloth into the water and folded it into a small rectangle big enough to cover the length of the forehead and placed it on Christophor’s forehead.

Taking another piece of cloth, the maid placed it in water and started to dab the cloth slowly around Christophor’s face.

_“Sleep well Anderes.” He said as he slowly dabbed the beads of sweat away with a piece of wet cloth._

_As he leaned forward to plant a slight kiss on his lips, Savan’s purple irises gazed lovingly at him. His gentle fingers brushing away the strands of stray hair away from his face._

_“You have to get well soon. Or else, what am I supposed to do?” Savan chuckled._

_“Find some other man?” Anderes teased as he touched Savan’s cheek._

_“I shall, if you want to…” Savan smiled as he got into the bed and laid beside Anderes._

_Pulling Savan closer into his arms, Anderes closed his eyes and slowly allowed himself to drift off to sleep._

_“I will never let you go…” Anderes muttered as he drifted off to slumber._

“Emily?” Christophor muttered in his sleep pulling Anderes from his memory.

“Who’s Emily?” Nathan asked.

“How the hell would I know..? Let’s go.” Anderes replied as he turned and left the room.

“I need to go for the meeting with the defense counsel, are you able to stay out of trouble while I’m gone?” Nathan asked as he closed the door behind them.

“I’m not a kid Nathan. I can very well take care of myself,” Anderes replied with an edge of irritation in his voice.   

Chuckling at his brother’s reaction, Nathan turned and waved goodbye as he headed down the corridor towards the War Room. Looking out a nearby window, Anderes gaze towards the direction of the forest; directly behind the castle, on top of the cliff overlooking the entire country, the grave of the one man he loved with all his heart, the one he wanted to spend his entire life with,  _‘Till death do us part’_ , as the man had mentioned on the night they first made love together. However all that was so cruelly taken away from him when that boy’s country attacked.

Frustrated, Anderes slammed his fist against the brick wall, drawing blood upon his knuckles. From the corner of his vision, he saw Rivan return from sending the physician on his way. Rivan was staring at him nonchalantly. He expected the guard to blame him for his prince’s condition, and he was ready for it. But it never came. Rivan just ignored Anderes and entered his prince’s quarters.

Dinner was currently being served to the royal family. Each child was deep in their own thoughts as their knives sliced through a tender piece of lamb, accompanied by the kingdom’s best wine.

The queen, Queen Victoria, third princess of Asteria, glanced with curiosity at her children, then at her husband. They were unusually quiet this evening; especially Anderes, he was merely pushing his food around his plate. He had hardly drunk any of he tomato soup nor had he touched his salad. He was drinking a lot of wine though.

“Anderson, how long has it been since the children were this quiet during dinner?” Victoria asked, chuckling slightly.

King Anderson smiled brightly; being king had indeed aged him quite a lot; his young features were now accompanied by wrinkles caused by the many times he stressed himself over state matters. However, no matter how old he looked, he was only forty-five, and he still retained his handsome features from his teen years.

“My dear queen, is this not good? We rarely get to enjoy dinner in such a calm and peaceful environment. For once, you do not see Nathan trying to steal Elsie’s food, nor do you see Davien and Damien having a mini food fight across the table now do you?” King Anderson stated.

“Father, Mother,” Nathan started, his voice weary, from spending a straight six hours in the War Room discussing with defense council. “How can you be so calm, when the enemy is right at our doorstep, right in this castle?”

Staring at his eldest son, King Anderson placed down his wine goblet and explained (like the many times before), “Nathan! He is not our enemy anymore. He is going to join our fami—”

Anderes slammed his goblet back on to the table interrupting his father. Queen Victoria gazed at her second son sadly. She knew he was going to get angry. His father had engaged him to another man without his consent. Especially after Savan was killed by that boy’s country. 

“I’m done.” Pushing back his chair, Anderes ignored his parent’s protests and slammed the door behind him.

He was angry; what right did that scum have to stay in this castle, to become part of the family, to take Savan’s place? His mind clouded with anger as he made his way as calmly as he could to that boy’s room; which was not very calm at all. If he were dead, there would be no wedding after all now would there?

Knocking out both of the boy’s personal guards (rather nosily), Anderes removed his sword from its sheath and glared at the wood separating him from the boy for a second, before he pushed down the handle, barging into the room yearning to see the blood of that boy.

Glaring inside, he was furious to see Christophor missing; the sheets were unmade and his bowl of soup had apparently toppled from the bed onto the expensive Persian rug spilling its contents everywhere. He turned his gaze towards the balcony to see the door still tightly shut. Without taking his eyes off the room, he moved slowly towards the adjoining bathroom to see if the boy was in there; hiding like the coward he was. 

“Where are you, you coward!” Anderes roared as he remembered the blood covering his body as he held Savan in his arms that day.

The smell of iron was still as vivid in his mind as it was on that faithful day. He could still feel the warmth stealing away from the limp body, the precious blood leaking out from the multiple wounds on the body. He still could remember watching the light disappear from Savan’s eyes, the way his head fell back onto his arm. He could still remember all that, even though it happened quite some time ago.

Angry tears welled up in the corner of his eyes as he stalked back into the room. He spied a small piece of cloth hanging out from the wardrobe; a pale blue piece of silk, similar to the bed clothes of that boy’s. Walking slowly, he stopped in front of the wardrobe, the entire room was silent, he was positive he could almost hear the other boy’s breathing from inside.

Suddenly, without hesitation, he stabbed the sword through the slit in between the wooden doors, feeling it pierce through something, before a voice from inside cried out in pain. Two wooden doors slammed straight into his face as the boy scrambled out, his left arm bleeding profusely.

Christophor screamed as he ran pass his enraged fiancé. He had climbed out of the bed in a hurry to hide in the wardrobe when he heard the commotion outside his doors. He had waited in the dark, hearing Anderes call for him, before he felt searing pain and warm liquid oozing out from the wound on his arm.

“Help me! Guards! Guards! Rivan! Where are you! Rivan!” Christophor hollered as he ran to the other side of the bed; furthers from Anderes.

He clutched onto the wound, trying to staunch the blood, but the sword seemed to have done a great deal of damage, it might have cut through a vein or something, he was no doctor. He watched in horror as Anderes stood up and glared at him. His eyes seemed distant, as though he was seeing something else in his mind. Anderes charged at him, his sword poised for attack; he jumped right across the bed and stood just a few feet in front of Christophor.

“Do you know how much pain Savan had to suffer? Did you know his body was struck with five arrows? Did you know how much he meant to me?” Anderes bellowed, angry tears streamed down his face. “It was because of your people, your country! It is because of you! Do you think you can take Savan’s place? Do you think you belong here?” 

Christophor shook his head wildly as he tried to prove his point. The man before him was crazy, his eyes were ablaze, full of hatred and anger, and the only person he could take it out on was on Christopher.

“I wonder, would anyone cry for you when you lie dead in the ground, cold and rotting. I wonder,” a vicious smirk grew on Anderes’ lips as he brought his blade up, running a finger along the sharp edge leaving a trail of red in its path. “Would help come in time to stop me from running my blade right through you?”

The sound of running feet grew louder from the corridor outside, within seconds, the King and Queen along with Elsie appeared breathless, followed by five imperial guards all armed and ready to fight.

“Anderes!” Queen Victoria screamed as she watched in horror, her son readied to kill his fiancé.

“Christophor!” Rivan yelled as he barged into the room from behind Nathan, just as Anderes raised his sword, ready for the final blow.


	4. My Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait on another update! Hahas Been having a writer’s block, for all my novels. It’s really quite irritating, hahas, but here’s the new chapter! Hope you liked it! Vote and leave a comment ya? Hehe cheerios!

Chapter 4: My Weakness

“He was just angry,” “He had it coming,” “He was like a savage!” “I never knew Prince Anderes was so scary...” Remarks like these spread like wild fire throughout the castle and the entire town; everyone was curious, even excited at their thought of their prince trying to kill their enemy. It seemed as though this was going to be the town’s hottest gossip for weeks – maybe even months to come.

King Anderson slammed his goblet to the ground as he glared at his second son. He was at his wits ends, trying to improve the peace between the two feuding countries, and there Anderes goes, almost wrecking all of his years’ work.

“How? Why! Why did you attack the young prince? Are you trying to start another war?” the King bellowed; his entire face flushed with anger.

Queen Victoria stood up and tried to calm her husband down. She muttered soothing words of comfort as she gazed lovingly into her husband’s eyes. She did not approve of Anderes’ actions, but knew she had no place to state her views. It was, after all, their fault in the first place, for engaging him to a man he had known to be the enemy.

“I’m sorry Father. I just lost control…” Anderes muttered softly.

He had been sorry for whatever he had done. It was as if he had awoken from being blinded by a cloud of anger and hatred.

_The sound echoed loudly throughout the room; it was as though someone had poured water over him, pulling him back to his senses. Christophor had fallen to his knees, staring up at him with those frightened azure-blue orbs. Frightened tears were streaming down his face which was already spotted with spots of red._

_At first, Anderes was unsure of what had happened. He just realized that he was standing before his very enraged younger sister, and his cheek felt like it was on fire. Glancing around, he saw that his sword was dripping the same coloured red liquid that was spreading around a gash on Christophor’s arm. Being able to piece one to two, Anderes stared dumbfounded at Elsie._

_“You idiot. What were you trying to do? Kill my future brother-in-law?!” she asked as she grabbed his shirt collar and glared straight into his eyes._

_“Elsie, stop it.” Surprisingly, it was Nathan, the ‘i-will-never-be-able-to-be-king-because-i-love-fun-too-much’ Nathan. Releasing Elsie’s grip, Nathan stared hard into Anderes’ eyes, without looking away, he reached for his sword; prying it away. “Anderes, you can hate him, you can wish he were dead, but don’t ever try and take his life. Not when we are on the verge of war again. A thing like this would tip the balance of the little peace we have now. I don’t want us to lose the people we love anymore, understand?”_

What Nathan had said then had made so much sense; no matter the reason, a prince – even if he were a commoner, it would not do anyone any right by trying to eliminate this foreign prince. Anderes tuned his father’s voice out as he turned and exited the room. He was sick of listening to the King and everyone else; he just wanted to be alone, to think.

A familiar smell reached his nose as he glanced up in surprise. He had not realized that he had made his way to the stables unconsciously. He had been so deep in thought, and his body just brought him to the one place where Savan and he used to come together; to a place where no one would find them.

His eyes glanced through the number of horses in their stalls and stopped at one particular horse that was pure white. Moon, in matching reference to his owner’s name. He tossed his head proudly as soon as he recognized Anderes.  

_There he stood, his blonde hair in a loose ponytail, his gentle fingers running through the mane of the fine steed. His eyes gazed lovingly at the animal. He turned his head towards Anderes and smiled a small smile; he was the reason why Anderes enjoyed coming to the stables almost every day._

_“Prince Anderes, would you like to touch him? You’ve been coming here for some time now, and you look at Moon every time, yet you never touch him. Are you afraid of him?” the boy teased._

_Blushing slightly, Anderes hastened to reply some incomprehensive answer. Whenever he was around this servant, he felt as though his throat had died on him and his voice would not function properly._

_Savan. That was the name of the boy before him. His first love. He was as beautiful, no, he was even more beautiful than any women he had ever seen. His skin was flawless, fair like a maiden’s yet smoother than any he had ever touched (not that he had touched many). His hair was like fine gold, tied together with a piece of rag; it was smooth like silk, glistening like real gold under the sun._

_Angel; that was the first word he could use to identify the boy with. He was as beautiful as an angel._

But, that was all in the past now. That beautiful boy was now truly an angel, and Anderes was never allowed to be with him again until the end of his own life. He reached out and stroked the white horse tenderly, even after so long, he was still able to remember every detail of Savan. The way he smiled each morning at breakfast, the way he would hold his utensils, the way he laughed so happily at the jokes Nathan would say. And yet, all they were now, were just memories…

He laid his head upon the animal’s neck; he could feel the pulse beneath the skin. No matter how long it had been, he was still unable to forget the times he spent with the other boy. The kisses they shared, the love that had blossomed over time. The horse neighed slightly as it swished its mighty tail; Anderes sighed and stood up straight. He knew he had to go apologize to the other prince. 

He swallowed a sigh as he built up his courage – he never liked to apologize, no matter how much in the wrong he was in. He ran a hand through onyx strands, brows knitted together in frustration. Biting down on his tongue, Anderes covered his eyes with the back of his arm to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

“Savan, I need you…”  Anderes muttered as he feel the hot liquid seep out from under his arm, sliding slowly, one after another down the side of his cheeks. “So badly. I’m not strong without you.”

Anderes knew that tears were a sign of weakness. He never allowed himself to cry in the presence of anyone, not even his own parents or siblings; Savan had been the only one who had seen his tears ever since he grew up and felt the wrath of reality.

It was a little after the declaration of the first war; where his father, the King of Cerenia, was going to lead the main forces into battle. Along with all the other boys he looked up to whilst they were training within the stronghold. He had seen his mother plead with tears adorning her beautiful features, begging for her husband to not enter the fray, to stay behind in the castle instead. Anderes had only been thirteen, he had not experienced death yet, but he had seen the consequences that followed. The number of widows and orphans he passed by whilst on horseback during the numerous inspections.

Savan had been the stable boy. He took care of the horses of the royal family. Officially, Anderes only remembered meeting Savan at the age of fifteen; however, they first met when they both were thirteen, the spring a little west of the castle, near the border village. Savan had comforted Anderes – wiped away his tears and told him jokes and stories of boundless limits. He made Anderes laugh when he felt like his world was darkening. But when Anderes returned to the castle, news of his father not entering battle made him rejoice; forgetting the blonde-haired boy who shared his imagination to see him smile.

It was Savan once more during the second war, when they were both nineteen. News of his cousins’ death by assassination followed by the attack on a village on the outskirts of Cerenia resulting in the massacre of two hundred civilians, the final blow was dealt when the king ordered Nathan to lead the main forces this time. Anderes loved his brother, the thought of having him perish during battle was enough to make him walk out from the dining room and straight into the presence of Savan with a tear-stained face.

There was peace for a mere four months before the king ordered Anderes to lead another group of fighters to aid Nathan’s forces. Savan had been in his care. For four weeks they had fought back the enemy forces, back to their borders; celebrations that night ended abruptly when an ambush occurred killing off half of the troops, including Savan.

Anderes could still recall the many bolts of arrows sticking out from his bloodied body, the warmth slowly stealing away followed by the glazed look in Savan’s beautiful golden orbs. As minutes ticked by; how Savan’s life force drained out from within his arms.


	5. Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Hi guys! FINALLY AN UPDATE! I know, i am sorry, but my inspiration for this story had died out.. But it has recently been rekindled! Hahas :) Drop me a vote and a comment if you could! I love it when i see people liking my stories and the more people who like this, the happier i get, the faster i can produce the next chapter! Hahas
> 
> Anyways, i hoped you have liked my story thus far! Read on and enjoy! Hehe! :)

Chapter 5: Nostalgia

His eyes jolted open with a start, senses alerted as he scanned through the shadows for the pair of unending pools of darkness that had haunted him even in his dreams. The breath that was caught in his throat slowly made its way out as he relaxed when he spotted his best friend’s dozing figure by the wall opposite his bed.

The rays of the moon cast a soft glow through the silk curtains and over the porcelain vase that was standing by the window – unfamiliar white flowers stood blooming. Christophor pushed the comforter off and pushed himself upright. A jolt of pain erupted from his left arm – a bandage had been wrapped around his torso, up his shoulder ending just a little above the elbow. A patch of red was slowly spreading under the white cloth.

Christophor pushed the pain to the back of his head - he could worry about it later. Now, he wanted to see those flowers, the moon rays bathe the flowers, emitting a magical-like glow. Smiling slightly, Christophor fingered the soft white petals wondering who left such beautiful flowers for him.

The flower itself was rather petite, a small yellow centre surrounded by five pure white petals. One by itself would have been deemed as nothing, but as a bunch, it seemed to calm the restless mind and allowed one to relax.

Christophor sat down on the side of his bed and gazed at the vase. It reminded him greatly of his childhood, where his mother would bring the four of them around their garden, introducing the flowers and their meanings to them. The white rose, which had been their mother’s favourite meant eternal love, innocence, purity and humility. His favourite flower would be the Forget-me-nots, signifying true love and remembrance; to seek for the one who is destined to understand him and love him for who he is, the other meant to rid the cloak of loneliness he felt after the death of his mother – to have an impact on those around him, to even remember him after his own death.

Even as a child, Christophor had been afraid of getting forgotten by the people he loved. He was afraid of being left behind, to be left vulnerable, to be attacked by the harsh reality. He always spoke of his fears to his mother and sisters, hoping that they would understand him, understand why he would always hang on to their hands or crawl into their beds at night. He was always afraid.

“They are called Yarrows if I remember correctly.” Christophor jumped at the sudden voice.

The crown prince smiled at him from the velvet arm chair in the darker corner of the room. In the dimly lit room, Nathan’s hair seemed almost black as he leaned back and surveyed the other. He had been in deep thought regarding the event that had occurred, the meeting details with the defense council and politics, things that made him feel like tearing his hair out. He had seen the other prince tossing in his bed, apparently having a nightmare followed by him waking up abruptly.

He had watched as the boy appreciated the flowers, deep in thought as he caressed the petals as though he were caressing a baby’s cheek.

“My mother handpicked them for you this evening. I must say, she always had a keen eye for beautiful flowers.” Nathan turned away from the flowers and looked Christophor straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry to have barged in, but I am here to express our apologies on behalf of my idiot brother. He has been through a lot, more than what he should be allowed to bear. I sincerely hope you’ll give him some time to warm up to you because another war is not something both countries of ours need right now.”

“A war can be avoided - if your brother can curb his temper.” Rivan muttered, his head still resting against the wall although his eyes were trained onto Nathan; carefully surveying his every movement.

Chuckling softly, Nathan returned the look.

“If only it were that easy. It takes two hands to clap; the starting of a war depends on both sides, I am sure I can get Anderes to calm down enough to settle things like a man, but that is only possible if you folks don’t go ratting back to your king about what happens in our country.” This was said with a smile but the spite that was intended was not masked.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you will have to leave. I need to have my dressing changed.” Christophor replied, his voice trembling slightly from anger.

Nathan nodded slightly to his direction before he stood up and headed for the door. Pausing at the door, Nathan turned his body slightly to look once more at the other prince, his features completely shrouded in shadows.

“I will not allow anyone to harm my family or my people ever again. If it is something that can be avoided, I swear, I will use any means necessary to ensure the safety of my people. Goodnight.” The door closed behind his fading footsteps.

“Do not come near me, do not talk to me, and do not ever let me see you again!” Nathan grumbled in irritation as he stalked away from Anderes and Elsie.

Anderes stared in confusion at the retreating back of his elder brother and looked questionably at Elsie for an explanation. 

“Well, because of  _that_  incident, the War Council kidnapped Nathan this morning at dawn and only released him for breakfast before stating that he had to return to them with a full plan on strategic troop placement around the entire country in case there’s a surprise attack from Zanela.” Elsie explained as she bit into her nails in a very unlady-like manner.

“That sounds like hell.” Anderes muttered guiltily. “At dawn? It’s not like that person is going to run back to his father to tell him everything now is he?”

“Well, who knows? Bad news spread like wild fire. It won’t be long until the people of Zanela catch wind of it.” Elsie stated matter-of-factly.

Anderes glared at nothing in particular. That boy brought nothing but trouble. Cursing in frustration, Anderes bid his little sister goodbye as he made his way towards the stables again. He needed to forget things, he needed to calm down and relax. He needed Savan.

“Morning Moon,” Anderes called out as he stroked the majestic horse lovingly. “Up for a ride?”

Releasing the bolt from the stable door, Anderes secured a simple saddle upon the horse’s back before leading it out; the stable boy bowed with respect as he led another horse towards the water bath – Anderes climbed onto the saddle with ease as he stared towards the horizon, his eyes fixed on a point only he could see.

“Let’s go pay Savan a visit shall we?” Anderes muttered as he ran his fingers through the mane of the horse.

It was as though he could understand Anderes; he neighed loudly, shaking his head, stamping his hoofs impatiently as he waited for Anderes to gather his reins – Moon began with a slight trot before the pace quickened and the rhythm changed into a gallop.

Having the wind in his face was a familiar and welcoming feeling – he leaned forward towards the neck of his stead, urging the white beast to go faster. His worries, fears, hatred all disappeared for a moment as he picked up speed, galloping through the back route, behind the tall grim façade of the inner castle; following a covered sewer tunnel. Compared to the main face of the castle, the surrounding walls were covered with ivy and moss, this was a route rarely seen by man, occasionally viewed by a passing servant or guard.

The advantage of having a castle backed up against the face of a mountain was that there was little to no chance of an attack from the back. The only chance one could attack the castle from the back was through a mountain pass; however the pass itself was naturally small, in order for a group of people to walk the path, they had to travel in a single file; it would be a suicide mission for an invading army. 

Anderes slowed Moon down to a trot as they reached the base of an imposing castle wall, from where he was, Anderes could only catch a glimpse of the nearest sentry tower, only the sunlight glistening off the armor of the guard on duty could be seen. Anderes followed the wall carefully until he reached an area of the wall where the sun never shined; a small contraption was fitted into the wall - a solid metal cylindrical slab with five small holes the size of three marbles drilled in to form another circle - small intricate designs had been carved all over the metal surrounding the holes – this contraption had been commissioned by King Leonard II, King Anderson’s great-great-great grandfather. He was famous for his skill in weaponry design.

This contraption was a three tier design; the only way to active the device was to push the metal piece inwards till it locks onto the third tier, complete an entire turn clockwise – when this occurs, the device would ease itself out into the second tier – complete another turn counterclockwise where the device would shift itself out into the first tier, at this point the user would have to keep turning the contraption counterclockwise to open the hidden doorway.

_It had been a gloomy day interrupted by shrouds of rain every few hours, what was a thirteen-year-old boy on such a day? The atmosphere within the castle was miserable and tense, guards patrolled the grounds in groups of four or six; everyone was paranoid with panic and stress, afraid of an ambush, of a sudden invasion. Anderes wanted to play with his elder brother but his brother was busy with his studies, and Anderes did not want to join his brother in studying to be King. He had no interest in that matter._

_He tried seeking out his mother to play with, but he was told his mother was sick by the nurse maids. He would hear her crying behind closed doors, he would hear her arguing with the King, but he never heard the words. He was still too young to know the severity of a war breaking out. He had no interest in that matter too._

_Therefore, he reluctantly entered the Old Library, the only place he had not fully explored before. He had heard stories about the place, about it being haunted by the old ghost of great-great-great-grandfather Xentorius. He had been assassinated in this very room apparently, and he was still very angry about it apparently._

_Anderes had then heard a noise coming from the second floor of the Old Library, in spite of all the stories he had heard, his curiosity influenced him to go investigate the sounds. As he climbed the stairs, his heart had hammered loudly in his ears he was afraid whatever was making the noise would hear him so he covered both his ears with his hands._

_Slowly, he stalked the various aisles for the source, and just like that, he stumbled upon a black bird, hitting itself on the bookshelves, the wall, the ceiling and never quite going anywhere close to the window. Anderes released a breath he never realized he was holding until he saw the bird. He shooed the bird with his hands towards the window and watched it fly towards the forest in the midst of the dark gloomy rain. He reached forward to close the window when he saw a chest fitted snugly into the side of the wall just below the window._

_He tried reaching for the chest, but to no avail, it was just out of reach. There was no way he would be able to reach the chest without risking falling over the ledge. He sighed in resignation and looked up towards the heavens when he saw it. It was covered in rust, but it was there, a bigger version of a fisherman’s hook, hanging on a sturdy rope that was so old with age that it blended in with the grey stone. The rope continued to run all the way into a hidden compartment under a loose brick just outside the right window. Piecing two-to-two, Anderes had used the rope and hook to retrieve the hidden chest from it hole-in-the-wall._

_Inside, Anderes inspected the chest, it was dusty, moldy and old, other than that, it was still sturdy. It had no lock just a simple rope had been tied over it; perhaps the previous owner of the chest frequently came back for the chest, but died before he could properly secure it. Eager with excitement, Anderes opened the chest hoping to find treasure or at least a map._

_And what he found –_

Anderes was forced out of his memories when the hidden door gave a high-pitch screech due to the rusted hinges.  Cold wind untainted by the pollution of smog or fumes tingled his face through the small opening. From where he was standing, he could see the mountain pass and the greenery surrounding it, a huge contrast to what he was feeling currently.


	6. Caged Bird

Chapter 6: Caged Bird

A growl escaped his throat as the door clicked shut. He pushed himself off the face of the wall and stood up; his hands brushed instinctively against the hilts of the twin swords attached at either side his hip. The heavy weight of the steel swords reminded him of his duty; not only to his best friend who was currently looking as calm and as regal as the prince of any country was supposed to be, but in actual fact, he was trembling terribly, the fingers that had latch onto the edge of the table were trembling, whiten with fear – but to his king, country and people.

Besides, he had a promise to keep.

Reaching for the matchbox, Rivan lit the oil lamp on the dresser and another on the table top next to the bed. He waited for Christophor to calm his nerves before he settled the younger boy back onto the bed.

“Idiot, you reopened the wound!” Rivan nagged as he grabbed the cloth from the table top and proceeded to the toilet to wet it.

As he cleaned the wound, Rivan studied the younger boy before him. The bright azure-blue irises he had grown so accustomed to have become dull; dark shadows had gathered beneath his eyes and the hollow in his cheeks were much more prominent recently. The eyes that once held the naivety and innocence of a child without worries had morphed into the empty shell of a man who was accustomed to bloodshed and loss.

Rivan sighed deeply as his eyes fell upon the unblemished fair skin that barely housed the protruding ribcage. His fingers brushed against taut shoulders made Christophor flinch in fright, as if jolted out from a deep sleep. His eyes widened in fear as he pulled away from Rivan stopping himself when he recognized the man before him.

“S-sorry...” Christophor uttered when he saw the hurt that flickered momentarily in the features of his best friend.

He raised his uninjured hand to massage his throbbing temples, trying to calm his nerves. Whenever he closed his eyes, his  _fiancé_  would somehow invade his sight, the murderous air surrounding them both, his sword raised, yearning for his blood. He felt his body jump slightly against his will as Rivan brushed against his torso. He released a ragged breath before opening his eyes, staring gloomily at Rivan.

“Hungry?” Rivan asked as he packed up the excess bandage and threw the now bloodied cloth into the laundry basket.

Christophor was about to reject the offer when his stomach growled loudly in protest. Blood rushed to his cheeks as Christophor smiled meekly at his smirking friend as he jumped off the bed and strolled towards the door.

“Er, Chris? I know you are hungry and all, but I think you’ll do well to wear your top back on.” Rivan mumbled, his entire frame shaking with mirth.

Christophor looked down and realized he was only wearing his pants and all that was covering his upper body was the bandage Rivan had just helped replaced.

“I was just-just airing my wounds!”

Grabbing the top discarded from the comforter, Christophor pulled the white satin top over his head and out of habit, tucked it into helm of his pants. Aiming a kick at the shin, Christophor strolled out of his room as his friend doubled over grimacing in pain. Rubbing the sore skin quickly, Rivan straightened up and hurried after the retreating form, throwing his arm across the younger man’s shoulders, ruffling up his bed hair even more.

*~*

He tried hard to stifle the yawn that was fighting to escape his mouth, and he failed miserably. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt his jaw widen as the yawn forced itself out. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sighed miserably to himself as he leaned slack against the rough masonry. He looked out from his guard post and his eyes wandered across the kingdom – it was about two hours before dawn and most families were still asleep save for the homes that had husbands, fathers, sons or brothers that had to be at their respective jobs before the sun rose.

He had another three hours to go before the next shift change, and he was dead tired. He really should have known better than to drink early the afternoon before; the alcohol was still in his system making him feel more exhausted than normal. He was used to the late night shifts; having been a guard for the royal family for the past five years.

“Jacob! Hey Jacob!”

Still feeling disorientated, Jacob turned towards the voice and looked quizzically at his buddy. His fellow guard was squinting towards the north wall saying something about figures walking about the north courtyard. Jacob stifled another yawn as he dragged his aching feet over to William, resting his heavy head upon the other’s shoulder, trying to spot what his buddy was saying.

*~*

“Chris! Come on! Let’s get back!” Rivan muttered trying to keep the whine out from his voice.

Christophor gave Rivan a vague nod before continuing. He was feeling annoyed, stifled really; the castle was constructed mostly from masonry, and it felt like a dungeon to Christophor.

_So cold. So empty. Inescapable._

Christophor shuddered at the thought of not being able to leave. He missed Zanela. He missed the warm nights, the cool breeze that held the scent of the Earth.

In comparison, Zanela was not as advanced as Cerenia, considering how his ancestors started out as nomads, settling down only because they realized the fertility of the land and the security of the landscape. Zanela had a history of about three generations; but they had prospered due to the hard work of the people along with the protection bestowed upon the land by  _Terra_  the Goddess of the Earth and  _Silvanus_ , deity of the woods and fields and protector of the forests surrounding Zanela. Cerenia had a much longer history - much of it involved war and bloodshed, without the protection of any God or Goddess.  _It is a wonder how they managed to get by._  Christophor thought as he touched a bared tree growing in the center of the courtyard.

The tree was relatively young – thirty-no about fifty years of age.  _She_  was lonely, her sisters had been cut down years prior for land and wood; the only reason she survived was because she had been the tree where the King’s late grandfather had hid in when an assassin attacked.  _She_  had no one to talk to ever since the last of  _her_  sisters had been removed from her side.

Christophor whispered a soft prayer to Terra, asking her for her guidance and protection for the young wood nymph. The answer he received was soft, yet comforting – the night wind caressed his cheek gently and danced through his hair, leaving behind the slight scent of freshly cut grass.

A small smile grew on his lips as the wood nymph thanked him for his company.

“Rivan, shall we stay for the sunrise?”

Rivan wanted to object, but it was the first time in a long while since he seen a smile that genuine on his best friend’s lips. He glanced around the courtyard looking for an appropriate spot and spotted two guards at the top of a guard post eyeing them. He tried to recall the route to the guard post from the map he had memorized earlier and pulled at Christophor to get his attention.

*~*

“If I am not mistaken, that might have been  _that_  guy.” William explained.

Jacob rubbed at his eyes once again, carefully following the two figures. He had lost his eldest brother and two of his cousins in the second war. Grimacing slightly, Jacob tried to cover up his anger by talking about how cold the night was and how much he needed to get out of it and into a nice warm bed. The two of them started conversing about how good a hot cup of wine would be right about now along with some roasted chicken and potatoes. William had just started boasting on how his wife’s boiled potatoes with roasted peppered chicken were the best in his sector when footsteps echoed from within the north tower. Jacob’s eyes steeled instinctively as he watched the pair from before emerge from the shadows with a torch in the black-haired teen.

“My apologies for the inter-interruption,” Rivan hesitated as he spotted the hostility in the red-head immediately. “We’ll just be here for the sunrise.”

Christophor looked at the two guards from behind Rivan after noticing Rivan tensing his shoulders abruptly. The glare that was directed at him was dripping with uninterrupted spite and anger, his fellow guard was less tense, less guarded.

William gave a smile in the direction of the latter pair and mentioned how they picked the best spot for viewing the sunrise as they were directly facing East. He explained that although the sunrise was beautiful, it would get uncomfortably hot during the day and how glad he was doing the night shift ignorant of the anger burning within Jacob. Jacob gave a hiss of hatred when William had prodded him to help in the description of the morning sun and growled bitterly as he tightened his grip on his spear, moving aside to let the pair through.

Rivan eyed the red-head hard as he ushered Christophor through the small walkway, putting himself in between his prince and the hostile guard. The fingers on his left hand twitched slightly as he brushed the tip of his hilt as a signal that he would not hesitate to draw his sword if they were faced with a problem. Christophor hurried forward, glancing at the red-head apologetically even though he wasn’t sure why he had to. The thought of the previous wars nagged at him and pulled at his brain; perhaps that red-head – Jacob was his name if he heard it correctly when William had called him – had lost someone precious to him in the wars. Christophor couldn’t blame him because he was indeed a prince of the enemy.

The clouds in the horizon were dark one moment and the next, a tinge of purple began to spread from bottom up. Purple was soon infused with bright orange, bleeding slowly across the sky engulfing the clouds in searing crimson. A beam of white light rose in the distance, too blinding to look at directly and yet, too mesmerizing to actually look away.

Both Rivan and Chirstophor shielded their eyes with their hands, fingers opened slightly to take in the different colours that were growing across the once dark canvas. The stars had shimmered their goodbyes sleepily and disappeared slowly as the light came in.

Orange gave way to red and red to pink and pink to a light yellow. The circular orb rose steadily above the horizon, gaining in size and speed. Yellow gave way to more orange and the entire sky looked as though it were on fire. Birds began their morning chorus, twittering through the branches and leaves. The cocks in the farms in the different sectors, announced the start of yet another day by throwing their heads back and giving their best cock-a-doodle-dos.

Christophor blinked away the tears from his eyes as the sunlight was a little too strong for his tired eyes; he marveled at the beauty of the Mother Earth – the fields beyond the castle wall was bathed in golden light, making the fields look as though they were gold fields. Dust particles filtered through the sun rays and appeared like little white dots dancing and weaving through the sunlight, shimmering slightly.

_Oh Terra,_

_Goddess of the Earth,_

_We thank you for bringing light for the new day,_

_The nourishment for our fields and for our people._

_Please guide the lost ones onwards,_

_And give protection to the ones left behind._

Both Rivan and Christophor absentmindedly whispered their prayers; a habit that had been instilled in them since young. Giving thanks to the Goddess who bestowed her protection and glory on the people of Zanela.

They sat there in silence, just enjoying the songs of life slowly erupt from the different sectors beyond the castle; the calls from the vendors in the market, the sounds of mothers starting the day with breakfast, and fathers getting the mules out from the stables to work on the fields.  Christophor glanced at Rivan and found him staring but not seeing into the horizon, his face a mask of calm and serenity. Rubbing his temples slightly, Christophor closed his eyes slowly to nurse the throbbing in his head.

*~*

“Step back.”

Christophor jumped awake and found Rivan with both his swords drawn, his stance poised to attack and kill if need be. Mirroring Rivan, was the guard from before, Jacob. The skin over his knuckles taut as he tightened his grip on the steel body of his spear. Scrambling up, Christophor winced, blinded momentarily as the glaring sunlight reflected off Rivan’s swords and directly into his eyes.

“I said step back and drop your weapon.” Rivan ordered once again as Jacob refused to step down. 

Jacob took a step forward, raising his spear defiantly.

“I want to speak with  _him_.” 

 


	7. Seeking Comfort

Chapter 7: Seeking Comfort

*~*

Moon neighed, stamping his hooves impatiently. The aroma of untainted grass was alluring, if he were lucky, perhaps his human would allow him to drink from the stream he remembered that ran across the pass. Anderes used to bring him along this pass every other day, but the trips had dwindled to once or twice per fortnight. Swishing his tail, Moon tossed his head once before tentatively taking the first step out.

"Hold up Moon."

His human's voice sounded annoyed. Moon tossed his head once again, urging his human to continue on. He felt his human tighten his hold on the reins. A sharp pull towards the right instinctively made Moon turn back, facing the dreary façade of the inner castle wall. Moon neighed in confusion, trying to turn back towards the awaiting greenery. The shrill sound of metal clashing against metal made his ears twitch as he looked towards the direction of which the sound came from.

Anderes released a deep sigh as he quickly reset the contraption. The door groaned against the rusty hinges, ultimately closing shut - become part of the wall again. Anderes gave Moon an apologizing pat on the neck before dismounting.

"Go rest somewhere first, I'll find you afterwards."

Anderes watched as the horse trotted away before he sprinted for the nearest entrance that would enable him to reach a guard tower as quickly as possible.

_What was happening? Was there an intruder? Why wasn't the signal given?_

Anderes took to the steps two at a time, cursing inwardly at the height of the tower. As he reached the top, he unsheathed his sword and approached the archway carefully. Peering outward, he could make out two silhouettes fighting in the eastern block.

The clash of metal rang shrilly in the morning air - Christophor retreating slowly as the pair approached his direction. Rivan caught the head of the spear within both his blades and expertly diverted it away as he swerved his body slightly within step of the momentum before slamming the back of his right elbow against Jacob's nose. The nasal bone gave way with a dull snap as blood and tears leaked from Jacob's broken nose and eyes.

Jacob roared in pain - dropping the spear as he clutched at his broken nose. He only stopped sniffling when the sun glistened off the blade of the sword before his face. Glaring through his pain and tears, Jacob felt a shiver run down his spine as Rivan grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled it backwards, revealing his bare neck.

"I will run you through and have your blood and guts spilled right here if I must," Rivan growled, his eyes full of fury.

"Rivan, stand down."

Taking in a breath to calm his mind, Rivan released the bloodied man before him and returned his sword back to its sheath. He had to turn away to stop himself from kicking the man in the gut. A look of frustration furrowed his brow as he approached his Prince. He understood why he needed to control himself, but his instincts told him otherwise. He released an irritated sigh before turning away from Christophor, unwilling to witness the mercy his best friend was about to show.

"I am truly sorry for that," Christophor muttered as he kneeled down before the guard. "Here, use this to stop the blood and you should really get a physician to look at that."

The outstretched hand holding a silk handkerchief was slapped away although the features of the guard remained passive. Christophor gave him a sad smile as he picked up the cloth, dusted it slightly and presented it to the guard once more.

"William, was it?" Christophor stood, beckoning to the other guard who had been trying to hold Jacob back previously. "Can you please take him to a healer when the next shift of guards arrives? He'll need to have the bone reset if he wishes to be able to breathe through them properly again."

William nodded appreciatively as he took the handkerchief Christophor handed him before helping his friend up. He gave the foreign prince and awkward bow as he helped Jacob into the guard's tower for a seat.

Anderes returned his sword back into its sheath as he surveyed the foreign prince and his guard. He watched as his  _fiancé_  playfully punched his guard in the arm; as he slung and arm across the shoulders of the guard; as his face caught the light of the rising sun; as a smile grew and laughter formed from his lips. Anderes watched as Christophor reprimanded Rivan - his voice carried away from the wind -, their backs against him and yet, for the first time, Anderes was able to see Christophor for the youth that he was - too old to be considered a boy and yet, still too young to be seen as a man. Snatched from the security and comforts of his family and home; sent to wed a  _man_  who was an enemy until recent years.

Anderes growled low in his throat as he turned away from the scene before him. He cannot feel pity towards that boy. Any other, perhaps,  _Him?_  - no way. The only son to the Benedik throne; he may not be the first borne son, but he was the only son - and traditionally, he would still be eligible to succeed the throne. Cursing inwardly, Anderes descended the tower, still deep in thought, not seeing the maid until he toppled the stack of cloths she had been holding. He was about to continue on his way when he saw the fear-stricken face of the maid.

"Sorry," Anderes muttered as he bent over and helped retrieved the fallen items. "Didn't see you there."

"No no, it was not your fault,  _my prince_ ," the maid stammered as she hurried to retrieve the cloths from Anderes. "It was I who was not vigilant enough."

The maid gave her thanks and bowed low, ensuring that Anderes was out of sight before she straightened back up and hurried about her duties - her face still red from the unexpected encounter.

Anderes exited the guard tower and proceeded to look for his stallion. The need to leave the castle had left him and all he wanted to do now was to get a goblet of wine and to just slip away from reality for a period. He turned a corner and spied Moon grazing before the hidden gate. Seeing Moon made Anderes recall the reason why he wanted to leave the castle - berating himself, Anderes reactivated the contraption, climbed back atop of Moon and headed out into the mountain pass. The cool morning breeze caressed his bare skin - soft and gentle -, like a lover's touch.

*~*

Opening his eyes, Anderes realized that he had fallen asleep. The grave that was overlooking the kingdom was sheltered by the canopies of the great trees that grew around the grave; small pockets of lights streamed through the canopies - like fairy lights, as Emily had put it. The sun was now slightly past midday, heat waves rose from the parched grounds that were unfortunately uncovered by the trees. Moon had settled himself down under the shadow of the trees and was snoozing lightly.

Anderes sat up, his fingers running across the surface of the gravestone - guilty, regretful and longing. It had been five years since he lost Savan. Five years since he was left behind by his lover; his best friend; his equal; the only one who could bring out his best qualities and accept his worst. Five years since his body had been laid to rest atop this mountain; since the warmth of his skin turned cold; since his eyes glazed over; since the last beat of his heart; the last breath from his lungs.

"Savan, I miss you."

Anderes laid his forehead against the cool stone, old memories replaying before his mind's eye. Memories of the lost smiles; the way his head would tilt backward as laughter escaped those lips; the way his eyes twinkled after a good joke or after he had too much to drink. Anderes missed the roughened fingers against his - calloused palms from rigorous trainings and handling of the horses.

Their lives had just picked up - Savan had just moved into the castle to join their family. Anderes was more than thankful that his family had been so accepting of Savan. The family dinners had always been like feasts; the noise and laughter from the boys and Savan; the happiness that overflowed from very single being in the room.

It all disappeared the day Savan died. Davien withdrew within himself. Davien had only just turned eleven and he hadn't completely understood the finality of  _Death_  until they covered Savan's coffin with soil. He never forgave Anderes for allowing Savan to die when he had been the commander. Damien sort comfort in trainings; he could not bring himself to hate his brother nor could he forgive his brother for letting Savan die. Damien knew Anderes would be the one who hated himself the most, but he had always looked up to Anderes - that Anderes was smart, tough and capable -, that he would be able to succeed in whatever he did as long as he set his sights upon it.

And yet, Anderes failed him.

Not only him, but Savan too.

Anderes felt his eyes stinging, warm tears pooling under his closed lids as he released a shaking breath. His fingers clutched at the edges of the gravestone as he pulled his body around it. His vision blurred as his eyes locked on to his dead lover's name. A sob escaped his chest whilst he remembered each and every arrow that had struck his lover; the crimson that flowed from the wounds; the crumpling of the body.

"I need you."

 


End file.
